


Two Dorks & One Terrible Bet

by florelflowers



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, because he's an oblivious dork, but evan still loves him, but it helps jon realize he's in love, there's a bet that gets taken too far
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13280739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/florelflowers/pseuds/florelflowers
Summary: Jon and Evan almost have an "accidental" marriage, but fall in love instead.





	Two Dorks & One Terrible Bet

 

It begins with Tyler, or more specifically, Tyler’s annoyance. 

Jon’s not entirely sure why his incredibly small, one person apartment is the home to all his friends, or why when they make plans for a gathering, his name is always thrown into the mix of: “places big enough to house six grown men”. 

He doesn’t know why, but when they all leave and he’s left alone, the only company being the record player with seemingly only an ‘on’ switch, he remembers why he doesn’t ever say no; Jon’s not lonely though, but he’s a social person, and being surrounded by others or even just one person is something he craves, it’s something that’s always been.

It’s on one of those nights of crowded space, a sticky heat from both the humid weather outside and the constant talking inside, as they all try to be heard, voice an opinion on a matter that’ll be forgotten within two days, that things become hectic, and he’s throw into a situation completely out of nowhere, or from a place he thought unattainable. 

He’s got his head laying on Evan’s shoulder, with a bare arm wrapped around him, and it’s nice, this feeling of affection the two almost always give each other-  _ “we’re best friends”  _ is what he tells Luke when the man asks, giving him the same familiar look, when he sighs,  _ “so are we, bud, but those touches mimic how I am with Ryan, and we’re in love.”  _

Now, Jon laughs at the thought because it’s  _ absurd.  _ Evan and him friends, and their love for people gravites them toward each other, seeking that comfort and confinement in others, but that’s it, that’s the end of a story Luke swears is hundreds of pages. 

He feels Evan move, as he tries to look at him, and the “what are you laughing at?” murmured in his ear makes him smile, from the silkiness always present in Evan’s words, and because the hot air against his neck tickles, of course. 

Jon only shakes his head, sitting up to look at Evan and his raised eyebrow, “Nothing, I just remembered something funny.” 

The nudge he gets to his arm makes his smile widen, as Evan leans closer, whispering with amused eyes, “Was it that time you were so drunk and ran down the street yelling about aliens?” 

“God no.” He laughs, instantly remembering that night of too many shots and bad decisions, “I’ve pushed that night as far back as I can.” 

“Aw, come on, it was hands down one of the best nights and you can’t deny that.” 

He was going to say  _ “yeah right, all I remember is Marcel trying to fight me because I threw up on him”.  _ Was, being the keyword, because he can’t, couldn’t, not when Tyler decides that’s a good time to voice his frustrations, the two of them being the focal point. 

“For fuck sakes!” Everyone freezes, all stopping and eyeing their friend with confused, and slightly terrified eyes, that only widen further (for Jon, at least) when Tyler points an accusing finger at him, and Evan, but Jon can’t help but feel like Tyler is looking at him specifically, when he yells, “I’ve been trying to get your attention for thirty minutes but you two are so wrapped up in each other it’s like no one else is even here. It’s been how long since you two met? Six years, and you’re  _ still  _ not married? Everyone here knows you two would bang if given the chance, except you  _ oblivious idiots,  _ so please for the love of whatever has made us watch you both circle each other for years,  _ do something about it.”  _

The silence that lingers is embarrassingly awkward, with no one knowing what to say, and refusing to meet their eyes which only means that they agree, with everything Tyler said. 

Each second that goes by with Evan sitting next to him stiff, unsure of what to do only makes him want to jump out the nearest window until finally, he has to force a laugh, ignoring Tyler’s piercing stare, “As if. Evan couldn’t handle being married to me even if he tried.” 

It’s the worst thing he could’ve said, and he cringes internally, aware of the still silent Evan next to him. 

Tyler, though, can’t stop talking for even a minute, “That has nothing to do with what I said!” His arms get thrown up seconds after, showcasing how frustrated he is, and Jon goes to tell him to  _ shut the fuck up,  _ but Evan beats him to it, sort of. 

“What do you mean as if?” Evan is giving him this puzzled look, and faintly he hears Tyler’s groan in the background, “I could so handle being married to you, in fact, I think you’d be the easiest person to marry. All you do is sleep and eat pizza.” 

It’s entirely true, and Jon should have laughed it off, agreed and moved on. 

But this is Evan, the guy he’s always been unintentionally competitive with, “Are you kidding? Just ask Luke, I’m a difficult person to live with let alone  _ marry.  _ Face it, Evan, you couldn’t handle it.” 

There’s no time to pay attention to Luke, who leans over and whispers to Ryan, “He is extremely annoying and difficult to live with, this is a true statement” when Evan is suddenly standing, towering over him in a way that certainly doesn’t get his heart racing. 

“I could handle being your husband and you know it, so just admit it!” 

He stands too, of course, not wanting Evan to have the upper hand, “Evan, I’m telling you, you  _ can’t.”  _

And then, well, shit hits the fan when Evan suddenly drops to one knee, jaw set and eyes narrowed, “Marry me.” 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Marcel groans, walking away, to get another beer, probably, followed by a disheveled Tyler, murmuring about “terrible friends” and “asshole idiots”. 

Jon’s almost positive his face shows just how surprised he is, given Luke’s constant hit to Ryan’s shoulder, who stares with an opened mouth and wide eyes, but Evan is still there, a challenge in his eyes that ignites a fire only able to come alive from the man before him. 

“Fine.” He says, ignoring the distant drawn out sigh, from Tyler most likely, “We’ll get married and then you’ll see that I was right and I’m expecting nothing but ‘Jon, all knowing world’s handsomest guy, you were right all along’ from you or I’ll call you a sore loser.” 

Evan finally stands, grimacing at the sound of his knee popping, and glares, crossing his arms, “Deal. But when I win I want to hear nothing but ‘Evan, the guy who I’ll never say is wrong again’ or  _ I’m  _ going to go around referring to you as the biggest sore loser.” 

It only takes him a second, “Deal.” 

“Uh,” They stop their staring contest to look over at Ryan, who keeps pushing an overly excited Luke away from his face, “You guys aren’t actually going to get married...right? I’m not the only one who thinks this is a terrible idea?” 

“Of course not.” Tyler comes walking out, looking by all means like an exhausted dad, tired of dealing with his immature kids, “Anyone with a sane mind would say this was the dumbest idea these two have ever had, which is saying something.” And then he spares a glance at a still grinning Luke, and adds, “Well, most of us would disagree to this.” 

“We’re getting married.” Evan cuts in, before turning to Jon, smugly grinning, “Unless you want to back out.” 

He hates how he can’t say no, though he knows he most certainly should, “I’m  _ not  _ backing out. We’re getting married.” 

“It’s settled then!” Luke yells, jumping up, quickly walking over to Jon. “I say we start planning right now.” 

“Luke, it’s nearly midnight.” It’s a little concerning, how sad he looks about this fact. 

“What about that church an hour away? Don’t they do walk ins?” 

Tyler stares incredulously at Marcel, “Walk ins? Who the fuck suddenly decides to get mar-nevermind.” 

“Again.” He says, a little louder, so that everyone turns to face him, “It’s almost  _ midnight.  _ I’m not getting married this late.” 

He freezes momentarily, taken back by how easily he could say ‘getting married’ and then with a scary realization all of this sets in, and he almost does cancel everything because they’re planning his  _ wedding,  _ with  _ Evan, his best friend.  _

But then he sneaks a glance at the man, seeing his relaxed posture, as if randomly wanting to marry your best friend was a normal occurrence, and huffs, because if Evan didn’t look the least bit scared about this whole fiasco, then why should he? 

“This weekend, then.” He says determinedly, cutting off whatever concerns Ryan was previously voicing, “We’ll go down this Saturday, and get married. Okay?” 

He’s kinda hoping they’ll all stop him, but even Ryan looks defeated, and instead everyone just nods; Evan’s reaction is the most important one though, and he tries to look for any signs of hesitation, but there’s none, only a cheeky smile and easygoing wink. 

“Well then,” Marcel claps, confusedly smiling, “Congrats?” 

He thinks this is the first time he’s never wanted Saturday to come around. 

**

Jon has, embarrassingly, always dreamed of a perfect wedding. 

His mother would say he had her romantic yearning, and though his father silently disagreed with his abnormal obsession, they encouraged him to go after it, meet someone worth wanting to spend his entire life with; admittedly, Jon fantasized too much, every movie of two people falling in love would leave him breathless in this anticipation, that one day that would be him, totally encompassed by someone worth holding all his attention.

His first ever relationship went terrible, but it left him knowing who he was, that the girl he was with would never be able to capture all his love the way the boy next door would, and that was fine, he wasn’t scared from this new knowledge, instead took it in stride and soon he had a boyfriend, months later.

Except, that, too, was a love short lived; all of Jon’s loves left him bitter, alone in this notion that love wasn’t meant for him, and that once warm hearted fantasy about marriage was tossed away, for someone who would put it to good use.

And now marriage won’t leave his mind, but it feels wrong, in a way, because there’s thoughts of Evan putting a ring on his finger but they’re  _ friends,  _ they’ve never made a move that would entail otherwise. It feels as if he’s robbing someone, from something they truly want, in a way Jon used to.

He ignores the red  _ 3:20  _ from his clock, and calls Evan, not caring that the other is most likely asleep.

He picks up only after one ring though, so maybe he couldn’t sleep, either.

“Hello?” 

“This is dumb.” He immediately says, staring up at his ceiling, though not able to really see anything, from how dark it is. 

“Why do you say that?” 

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, waving his arm around in the air, “I-it just is! I mean, what if you really don’t like being my husband and stop being friends with me? Or better yet, what if you  _ meet someone.  _ How are you supposed to tell them you’re married to your best friend because of some stupid bet?” 

“Jon.” Evan laughs, the sound soft in this familiar way and he can’t help but calm down, try and quiet the thoughts that rage on, “It’s not that deep. I’m just trying to prove that you’d be an easy husband, and once I do we can divorce or whatever, okay? This isn’t going to ruin our friendship, and the whole meeting someone is ridiculous, I haven’t been with anyone in over a year.” 

His voice goes a little high pitched, the telltale sign that he’s hiding something, but Jon doesn’t pry, instead sighs and runs a hand down his face, “Yeah, okay.” 

“Hey, do you work tomorrow?”

He frowns at the random question, trying to remember his work schedule, “No, I don’t think so.” 

“Cool, then how about we go pick out a cake tomorrow?”

Internally he freaks out, not at all prepared for picking out his and Evan’s  _ wedding cake,  _ but goes along with it anyways. 

“Sure. I’m telling you right now it’s going to be chocolate.” 

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting my wedding cake be chocolate; it’s going to be vanilla.” 

“Vanilla? That’s so lame!” 

“Jon,  _ no.”  _

_ “Evan.”  _ He mimics, laughing when the other groans. 

“I’m going to sleep now, but we’ll argue about this later.”

“Look at us, we already sound like a married couple.”

“Goodnight, Jon.”

“Yeah, yeah I get it. Goodnight.” 

It goes silent after that, and Jon sighs, putting his phone away, replaying the conversation in his head. 

“It’s  _ our  _ wedding cake, jerk.” He huffs, just now realizing what Evan said.

He can’t help but smile though, as he rolls over, at the word ‘our’, finding that he quite enjoys it, for a reason he silences, before it even gets a chance to be heard. 

**

They don’t go shopping for cakes the next day, because he wakes up to a nightmare, also known as Luke’s face, leaning over his and so close that Jon goes a bit cross eyed when he wakes up, stretching but instantly freezing, when the beard of the other man tickles his cheeks. 

“Oh my god,” He breathes, eyes unwavering, as Luke grins, “Is this hell?” 

And then Luke’s smile falls, replaced by narrowed eyes, “Hell? You saying my face ain’t pretty enough to be in heaven?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Luke, thankfully, leans back a bit, but Jon is still half asleep and not ready to deal with his ass, so he calls out for Ryan, knowing the other had to be there as well; the two are never apart, and if possible, he’s sure they’d be connected at the hip, “Ryan!” 

There’s a distant and muffled reply, “What?”

“Can you come get your man child? I don’t think he knows what personal space is!”

Luke scrunches his face, and fully steps away, looking at Jon as if  _ he’s  _ the one that was just doing something creepy, “Dude, your breath smells like ass.” 

“I just woke up, asshole, and it’s not my fault you had your face so close to mine.” 

“Still,” Luke says, wiping at his nose, being over dramatic as per usual, “You should keep mints by your bed to use during the night.”

Ryan saves him from explaining how that logic is fucked and that he lives alone and so what if his breath is horrendous in the mornings.

He sips at his cup of coffee, (Jon’s pretty sure that’s his cup, along with his coffee, and he huffs) as he looks at them, “Luke, babe, we’ve talked about this. People don’t like you getting in their face.” 

The implications that this is a regular occurence leaves Jon disturbed, but he doesn’t bother asking about it, instead sits up on his elbows, and asks the more important question, “What are you guys doing here? Also,  _ how  _ are you here, in my apartment? I took Luke’s key away months ago because he wouldn’t stop stealing my food.” 

Tyler pops his head around the corner, cheese stick hanging out of his mouth, and holds up a shiny silver key, “That would be me. I borrowed Evan’s.”

“Evan?” Luke asks, grinning impossibly wide like he’s just been told the best secret, “You gave Evan a key?”

He feels the heat rise to his cheeks, at the way they’re all looking at him, and he huffs, sitting up, “Is that so wrong? We hang out a lot, it only made sense to give him a key.” 

“Right, well, you guys are getting married after all, so it’s not that surprising.”

Luke looks entirely too smug, and he groans, flicking him off, “We’re not getting  _ married,  _ just y’know, getting married. There’s a difference.”

“How do you put up with these two?” Tyler asks Ryan, looking as if he already wanted to pull his hair out. 

Ryan shrugs, taking another sip of his coffee, “I think I’ve just become immune to it all, which is both sad and comforting.” 

He gets an odd look, before Tyler shakes his head, and claps his hands, “Anyways, Jon, we’re going shopping for a tux today.”

“Today? But Evan and I were supposed to go looking for a cake.” 

“You guys can do that later, when Saturday gets closer, but we have to go find something before it’s too late. Evan’s doing the same, although with Marcel. I pulled the short straw and got stuck with you three idiots. Except you Ryan, you don’t deserve to be around these buffoons as often as you are.” 

Ryan gets a little teary eyed, as he whispers, “That was so nice of you.” 

He rolls his eyes, and falls back, giving one last stretch, “Can you guys leave then so I can get dressed in peace?” 

Surprisingly, they all do, shuffling out and closing the door behind them, leaving Jon to stare up at the bare ceiling, still not fully comprehending all that’s happening. He never thought he’d get the chance to ever go shopping for a tux, or wedding cake, and it feels like a surreal dream, one he’s not entirely sure how to feel about, just yet. Still, though, he admits, there’s this excitement that awakens, and maybe Saturday isn’t looking so bad, after all. 

**

It takes three hours before he wants to retract that statement. 

“Can we  _ please  _ go get food? I’m actually about to eat the next suit you guys make me try on.” 

Tyler, being the sadist that he is, merely throws another blue suit at him, “If you keep crying I’ll make us go to six more stores.” 

He quickly pulls the scratchy outfit off his face, and narrows his eyes at the tall man, leaning against an opposite mirror, “You wouldn’t.” 

“Try me.” 

He almost wants to, just to see if Tyler is bluffing or not, but then his stomach growls and if possible, he narrows his eyes even more, before turning and promptly walking into the dressing room, muttering under his breath as he throws his shirt off, for the  _ tenth  _ time. 

“If it helps,” Ryan suddenly speaks up, voice sounding as tired as he feels, “We’re hungry too.” 

“You see!” He yells, struggling to get the pants on, “It’s not just me!”

If he could see his face, Jon would bet Tyler looks ready to lose them in a crowded area, a familiar look they’ve all grown accustomed to, “You’re all a bunch of babies.” 

He swings open the door only a minute later, pulling at the sleeves, entirely uncomfortable wearing such a formal attire, “Well?”

Luke, for once, is speechless, Ryan looks like he might cry, and Tyler whistles, slowly clapping.

He pushes up from the mirror and circles him a bit, making Jon anxious, and a little self conscious, “Holy shit,” He finally says, meeting Jon’s eyes with a grin Jon has never seen Tyler wear before, “You actually look decent.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“I’m just so happy for you.” Luke says, running to embrace him in a hug that leaves him off the ground, supported by the arms that wrap around him and he chokes, at the sudden lack of air. 

“Luke, I can’t breathe.” Reluctantly he lets him go, and Jon wheezes, grabbing at his side. 

He notices Ryan right after, and groans at the tears in the man's eyes.

“Are you actually crying? Weren’t you the one against this whole thing?” 

Ryan sniffs, and tries to look affronted, but really he looks adorable, with his red cheeks and shining eyes, “Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean I can’t be overwhelmed with emotions, okay.” 

“Can we just get this one and leave, finally?” 

“Alright, alright.” Tyler huffs, rolling his eyes, “Just hurry up.” 

Jon rushes a little more than necessary, when he changes back into his normal clothes, but lets out a whine when his phone goes off, because he has to stop and check it of course, (Jon rarely gets notifications and when he does he might get a little too excited). 

He hates how his heart picks up a bit when it’s from Evan, and at the stupid blushing emoji he put as a joke but has yet to remove. 

**_How’s it going, future Hubby?_ **

“Stupid heart.” He mutters, refusing to look in the mirror and see his flushed cheeks.

_ Terrible. Tyler has kept us prisoner and refused to let us eat for three hours. _

And then because he feels bad about not asking back, quickly types,  _ What about you? _

He chews on his lip, debating on whether or not to be cheeky like Evan, but then reminds himself that all of this means  _ nothing  _ and hastily adds,  _ My dear future husband _

It’s possibly the lamest thing he could’ve said, but Evan doesn’t mention it, thankfully. 

**_That’s better than dealing with a crying Marcel who takes pictures every 5 minutes_ **

_ Ryan’s already cried and Luke doesn’t look too far behind. _

**_Damn. You win._ **

And everything is always a competition with them, isn’t it? He doesn’t reply back, or think too much into why there’s a sudden heaviness in his heart, at the thought of their platonic rivalry. 

Still, that night when he’s finally home and beyond exhausted, he pushes the small inkling, that rises in the hopes of finally telling him what he refuses to see, into the far corners of his mind, and whispers like a gentle lullaby, “This is all for a bet, nothing more.” 

**

The next two days drag on in an uneventful methodical pace; he gets a bit sick of seeing both Luke and Ryan’s faces, as they apparently refuse to leave his home, instead plan out “sleepovers” that occasionally Tyler will show up to, with a standoffish “I don’t want to be here but Evan is busy with Marcel planning out shit I don’t care for” that quickly dies down once they get a couple of uno rounds in him-to which he turns into a roaring angry giant that even Luke stays away from. 

Each day that passes is filled with a sort of excited dread, which confuses the hell out him. There’s no reason for him to be excited, because actually  _ looking forward  _ to marrying your best friend isn’t normal, but it’s there, swimming under the surface. The dread makes sense, it’s just a shame it’s not as loud as the other, more troubling, feeling. 

On the fifth day since ‘The Incident’-as everyone is calling it-there’s a knock at his door, earlier than he’d like. 

He only shoves his head under his pillow, expecting the one of three people, who have yet to leave, to answer it. So it’s a little frustrating, when after ten minutes the knocking continues, a soft sound, patient in this irritating way because why haven’t they gotten the message that he  _ doesn’t want to answer it.  _

Letting out a drawn out groan, he flings the blanket off and stomps over, promptly swinging it open, annoyed words on the tip of his tongue that fall when his eyes focus on the small smile, and bright eyes, and he lets out a breath of air, completely caught off guard. 

“Evan?” 

He gives a small wave, lifts one shoulder, and tilts his head, “Hey. Figured I could sweep you away for a bit to go pick out a cake, that okay?” 

_ More than okay.  _ His mind wants to scream, but he hastily ignores it, and for once, finds himself nervous, to be around Evan without the company of others.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Just-let me get dressed, although I did just wake up, so I’m expecting coffee as a form of forgiveness.” 

He lifts a pointed eyebrow, but Evan only laughs in the breathy way Jon has come to acknowledge as his “fond but exasperated” laugh. 

“Of course. What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t take you out for a breakfast date?” 

And the way he says it is so  _ casual  _ and Jon is so  _ lost.  _

He doesn’t know the context behind those words; is Evan excited about marrying Jon? Or was he still focused on the bet and doing everything he could to make Jon uneasy as a sort of playful joke?

It drove him mad, not knowing how Evan really felt, and more so he drove himself mad, at all these conflicting and reawakening emotions-or maybe not reawakening, because he’s not sure if they ever left, in the first place. 

Evan is still standing there, not at all knowing how much Jon is freaking out, as Saturday looms nearer, a ticking time bomb that expires in less than 24hrs, but his stance shows his calm nature (he’s always nonchalant about everything isn’t he?) and so Jon forces a laugh, and jabs a thumb at the small space behind him.

“A terrible one, I’d say. But, um, I’ll just be a second.” 

He lets out a tired breath, once the door closes, and mentally prepares himself for the day ahead, spent with Evan...his future husband. 

His knees may or may not wobble at that, as he makes his way toward his room.

Cake shopping with Evan, turns out to be the most fun he’s had during this whole surprise disaster. 

It feels like old times, before things went too far, when they’re at one cake place and they annoy the lady trying to get them to try this “exquisite french dessert”, but they’re too busy whispering jokes into each other’s ears, or kicking at one another, when one of them starts to get this blank look on their face and they know the other is daydreaming, (that’s usually Jon, who ends up getting a swift kick, or gentle tap to his knee, but sometimes Evan has his moments too). 

Or when they’re walking down the street and Evan will sling a lazy arm around his neck, lean most of his weight on Jon as he goes on about how Marcel wants to send invites to all of his neighbors-which only leads into them remembering that one time when the man upstairs reported them because they were drunk and singing karaoke too loud in the middle of the night. 

It helps to soothe Jon and his tiny worries, that their friendship would be ruined because of all of this, instead leaves him with content in this “we’re going to be okay” kind of reassurance.

Especially when they visit the last place, both leaning towards a marble cake, to have both chocolate and vanilla, and everything just feels so  _ nice,  _ as they sit next to each other, glancing at one another when the first touch of the cake hits their tongue.

“Oh yeah,” Evan smiles, nodding, as he looks at Jon for some sort of approval, that is immediately granted, “This is the one.” 

“I think this is the best cake I’ve tasted.” He feels a little dazed, as he stares down at his plate, not quite believing that something so delicious could be real.

When he looks back at Evan, to gush more about how his taste buds are crying in joy, he finds the other already looking at him, smile soft, and eyes sincere, as they travel all across his face, taking in all he can and Jon feels everything heat up, at the look.

He whispers “What?”, somehow finding the atmosphere evolving into this subdued fervor, and he has to cough, clear his throat when Evan’s smile finally shifts into a familiar one, “Is there something on my face?”

“Actually, yeah.” His thumb is soft, as it swipes at Jon’s upper lip; his heart stops momentarily, and he’s almost positive he feels Evan linger, before his hand gets pulled back and Jon finds himself nearly gasping for air, as he stares with wide eyes, forcing himself not to pull at Evan’s hand, demanding more, “Just a crumb.” 

He tries to stutter out a response, but the baker is coming out from the back, grinning when she sees their plates empty; the moment has passed and Jon finds himself longing for it again, craving more of that heat Evan so easily gives; there’s no time to process that thought, not yet, at least. 

The walk back to his place is silent, the only noise coming from kids getting home for school, but it’s peaceful. Any silence that lingers between the two is never awkward, only comfortable, and Jon thinks that’s one of the many reasons why they get along so well; they just get each other in a way he’s never been able to with anyone else, they can share looks and know what the other is saying, gently lay a hand on the others arm and instantly feel better. There’s a long list of small things they do that communicate their trust and comfort with one another.

_ “You guys are so clearly in love.”  _ Tyler had said, just two nights ago when Luke and Ryan had fallen asleep and Jon, for some reason, couldn’t stop talking about Evan. 

He had only shaken his head, frustrated that no one could understand when he said,  _ “We’re not. We-he just gets me. Or, we get each other. Like Luke and I are best friends but in an entirely different way from Evan and I.”  _

_ “Jon.”  _ Tyler sighed, eyes sympathetic in a way he immediately hated,  _ “That night, I said both of you were oblivious idiots, but after these couple of days I’m starting to see that it’s you, who’s oblivious, and I just hope Evan doesn’t get screwed over by it.”  _

He still doesn’t know what that means, doesn’t understand what Tyler and everyone sees that he clearly can’t. 

“So did you find today somewhat enjoyable?” Evan breaks the silence, glancing over him and smiling when he sees Jon already looking. 

He playfully nudges him, and looks back out toward the sidewalk in front of them, “Actually, yes, more than I thought it would be.” 

“More than you thought?” Evan laughs, in mock incredulousness, “Did you seriously doubt that I could make this fun?” 

Jon hums, and laughs when Evan shoves him lightly, “It’s not my fault! How am I supposed to know that wedding stuff could actually be fun?” 

Evan grabs at his shirt, above his heart, and fakes a troubled expression, “I’m hurt, Jon, that you would think I’m not able to make everything entertaining.” 

They stop just moments after, standing in front of Jon’s apartments, and he rolls his eyes, patting at Evan’s cheek, “Listen, I had a moment of weakness. I promise to never doubt your fun abilities again, though, okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, not the first time I’ve heard that.” 

Jon stops on the first step, noticing Evan still standing there, and he frowns, turning to face him fully, “You’re not coming up?” 

Evan shakes his head, and stuffs his hands in his pockets, “Nah, I still have last minute shit to do with Marcel, but I’ll catch you tomorrow, for the big day and all.”

And then Jon’s sure the world stops, or goes exceptionally slower, as Evan leans in and places a gentle kiss on his cheek, leaving Jon to stand there in wonder and surprise, because they’ve never done  _ that  _ before. 

“See you, Jon.” Is murmured close enough to his ear that goosebumps break out on his skin, and he involuntarily leans more into it, but then Evan is pulling away, flashing a small smile, but all Jon can focus on is the blush on his cheeks, before he’s turning and walking away, leaving Jon to stare after him, and gingerly he places a delicate hand where his skin burns hot, trying to hold onto the warmth that was Evan’s lips. 

“Holy shit.” He breathes, as he stands there, replaying the kiss over and over, and even that night when he’s in bed, his fingers trail over the soft cheek, and in the darkness of his room, Tyler’s words float in front of him, bright enough that even his once blindness can  _ see  _ all of what was once hidden, and with a scared, but heavy realization, whispers,  _ “Holy shit,  _ I love him.”

**

He’s a horrible wreck the next day, filled with nerves and thoughts about this new revelation that no one hears. He wakes up to an immediate frenzy, as Ryan throws the suit at him, with Luke pulling him out of bed to get ready while Tyler paces in the living room, yelling at Marcel about something that Jon didn’t care to know, especially when he grabs onto Luke’s wrist, trying to get him to listen. 

“Luke, wait, I-something happened last night.”

“That’s great, bud, we’ll talk about it later. Right now though you need to get your ass ready because we’re  _ late,  _ thanks to someone.” 

“It’s not my fault you two overslept and couldn’t hear me  _ banging  _ on the door.” Tyler yells, flicking them off before turning back around to continue yelling. 

Luke rolls his eyes, and pushes him into the bathroom, “He’s been even crankier all morning, but anyways we’re giving you ten minutes before we have to leave.” 

“Luke, wait!” But the door is slamming shut and there’s the sound of shoes running across his carpeted floor, as everyone hurries to get the car ready, and he sighs, turning to face the mirror. He’s a bit horrified, at his reflection, showcasing how clear it is that he just woke up. 

He groans, “Ten minutes?!” 

**

The ride there gives him time to think things over, flip through endless possibilities and unsure thoughts; did he really love Evan? For how long had he been denying himself this infatuation and admiration? What now? They couldn’t possibly get married, not when Jon knows he’d look at it with eyes Evan wouldn’t, right? 

He bites at the skin around his nails, beyond confused about everything and not having the slightest clue on what to do. It’s made worse by the constant remembrance of that kiss, just hours earlier, and all of this feels so  _ wrong.  _ They’re driving to his fake wedding, where he’ll fake marry his best friend that he actually wouldn’t mind marrying, wouldn’t mind falling in love with and going out on dates and kissing him and  _ he can’t do this.  _

There’s not enough time to get a grip on his mind when the car comes to a stop, and everyone rushes out, pulling him along; he’s not sure why he hasn’t stopped yet, or why he keeps letting them tug him along because he knows this will all end disasterly for him, he knows, but he doesn’t  _ stop.  _

Until he catches sight of Evan, laughing with Marcel, and Jon can only stare, take in the grin adorning his face, the suit that fits nicely on him, and quickly pulls his arm back, before turning and walking in the opposite direction.

Luke calls after him of course, confusion laced in his words, “Jon! Where are you going?” 

“I don’t know.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair that Luke stares at miserably, having his hard work ruined, “I just know I can’t be here, doing  _ this.  _ I-he looked, god he looked  _ beautiful  _ and I can’t go along with this and pretend it means nothing because it does now, and I just, I  _ can’t.”  _

He ignores Luke’s attempt at having him stay, and walks out the doors, immediately feeling the sun shine down on him, heating him in the ridiculously expensive suit that’s useless, now. He’s only able to walk down to the end of the sidewalk, leading away from the church, before there’s a call of his name and he turns, recognizing the voice. 

Evan stands there, jogging over to him and though he wants to run, not ready to face him or these new feelings, he waits, and sighs, when Evan get close, immediately asking, “Jon, what’s wrong?” 

The sun in his eyes makes it hard to get a good look at him, but he makes out the furrowed eyebrows, the frown lines around his mouth, and he debates on lying, joking that he chickened out and Evan is free to make fun of him for it, but instead he takes advantage of the sun, finds that it’s easier to confess everything when he can hardly see Evan’s reaction.

“I think I’m in love with you.” Is what he says first, but it’s not enough, or not right, and he shakes his head, huffing, “Well, I don’t think I am- I  _ know  _ I am, which is still new for me because just yesterday morning I thought of you as my best friend and now I can only think of you as my best friend who’d I like to kiss and maybe all of this,” He waves his hand at the church still there, sighing, “Maybe that will happen, one day, but right now I have an image of us on a date, smiling and laughing because we’re in love and all of it is nice, and that’s why I can’t go back in there and marry you when I know it’s all for a bet.”

It’s windy outside, despite the overbearing heat, and it soothes him, as it kisses his blushing face and blows back his hair, and even more it’s a good silence filler, when Evan doesn’t say anything for the longest time and Jon’s sure this is the end of their friendship, but before his heart can fully ache, the corner of Evan’s mouth lifts, in this secretive way. 

“You remember that day we met?” He asks, and Jon frowns, admittedly a little annoyed that the other bypassed his entire confession. 

“Of course. Freshman year of college, you ran into me and made me fall on my ass, in front of everyone. Those laughs still haunt me, y’know.” 

The tiny smile only grows wider, and Jon’s a little breathless, when Evan takes a step closer and he can fully see the earnest in his eyes, “I never told you that I did it on purpose, because I saw you across campus, laughing in the loud way you do and I thought I  _ had  _ to talk to you, because you were the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen.” 

He lifts a shoulder, but his eyes never leave Jon’s and he feels a little winded, “And then we became friends so fast and you were more wonderful than I could have ever thought and,” He pauses, huffing as he tries to find the words, but Jon doesn’t interrupt, instead feels his heart race in anticipation for whatever Evan says next, “And since the beginning, really, I’ve always known that it was you, for me.” 

Jon wants to cry and scream and laugh, because, “That was six years ago, Evan! I-why didn’t you ever say anything?” 

“It was obvious you only saw me as a friend, and that was fine, I didn’t want to risk anything.”

He settles on laughing, at how ridiculous and idiotic they are, “Tyler was right. We’re both idiots, only  _ I’m  _ the one who was oblivious.”

This is all still so new to him, but with Evan standing there, that familiar smile on his face Jon has come to love over the years, it only make sense, that he would be the one Jon falls head over heels for.

Evan seems to understand, all that he’s unable to properly say right now, and the light that shines in his eyes nearly blinds Jon, but it’s a beautiful sight, directed at him, “So no marriage, then?”

Jon grins, and finds that it’s about time he take that last step forward, and he does, basking in the fond smile Evan gives him, “No marriage. Not now, at least.” 

He closes his eyes, has to, when Evan places a soft hand on his cheek, cups it like he’s made of glass, whispering, “Can I kiss you?”

It’s a silly question, given everything they’ve said, and Jon laughs, briefly opening his eyes, seeing Evan’s own goofy smile, both not believing that this is  _ finally  _ happening, “I’d be mad if you didn’t.” 

It’s a new discovery, kissing Evan, but he wraps his arms around Evan’s neck, and kisses back with an urge to explore forever and ever; the grip on his waist tells him Evan feels the same, and it’s surreal, all of this, but the feeling of the others lips on him, giving him new life to a sensation he didn’t know he needed, grasps him in a way that breathes, “this is real, this is happening.” 

Or maybe that was him, because Evan smiles against his lips, murmuring, “Yeah, it’s about time, too, huh?” 

He pulls back, heart nearly stopping at the loving look on Evan’s face, but he nods, smiling back, “Definitely.” 

Evan’s eyes flash behind him, and Jon wants to follow, wherever he wants to go, “What do you say we go on a date, now? There’s a carnival that just opened up a couple days ago, you up for a cheesy ferris wheel ride and rotting our teeth with cotton candy?” 

Jon has to stop himself from grabbing Evan’s hand and running off then and there, because he takes a look at what they’re wearing, and frowns, “Right now? Shouldn’t we change first?”

“What do you mean? That just means we’ll get discounts; everyone loves newly wed couples.” 

Jon’s probably a little too in love, but there isn’t any time to fear it anymore, when Evan looks ready to kiss him again, as Jon grabs his hand, and entwines their fingers, “Okay,” He whispers, leaning forward to place a lingering kiss on Evan’s lips, and laughs at the others dazed expression, “Let’s go.”

It’s an answer to many things, for a future that awaits for when they get there, but for now, Evan squeezes his hand, and they take off running, catching eyes from their suits; they don’t worry about others on the outside though, and it feels refreshing, regaining this overwhelming feeling he hasn’t felt since he was a kid, obsessed with the notion of love as he patiently waited, for it to find him.

He laughs a little louder, and smiles a little wider, because it’s been years, but finally, it found him, gave him someone who takes his breath away, and looking back, he feels silly for never seeing how it was always meant to be Evan, but he does see now, and so he takes and loves back and never lets go.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully you all enjoyed this because it was fun to write!


End file.
